Blame It On Gados
by TeaOli
Summary: Her name isn't Christine Chapel, damn it! She's not going to pine over anyone; even if that someone is the delectable Mr. Spock. Each chapter is named after a song title, but this ain't no song!fic. Complete.
1. Who Makes You Feel?

For the second time that night, Lt. Nyota Uhura's fingers skidded across the ka'athyra strings, sounding several discordant notes as they failed to find purchase.

Sighing, she moved her hand back into position even before her tutor ordered her to do so. She started her song from the beginning. This time, she made it almost to the end before she slipped up, her mind on the half-Vulcan sitting at her side, rather than on the music she was supposed to be playing.

"Argh!" she exclaimed, then took several deep breaths before beginning again.

"Perhaps you need a break, Lieutenant," Spock suggested, fearfully (she imagined) eyeing the death grip she had on his instrument.

"I'm sorry," she said, loosening her hold. "I just can't seem to get it together for some reason."

Cocking his head to the side, Spock appeared to consider her and her ineptitude for a moment.

"It has been six months and eighteen days since I last asked you to perform this particular piece," he pointed out eventually. "Perhaps if we were to return to our original method of instruction, you would find it easier to re-familiarize yourself with the song."

Turning word into action, he rose from his seat and slid his chair over until it was positioned directly behind her stool. Before she could issue a protest, his arms were around her and his fingers were moving hers into their proper positions.

"Try again," he ordered, not lifting his hands from hers, but easing the pressure so that his fingers would merely ghost against her as she moved them over the strings.

Knowing the exercise would be futile, Uhura complied anyway. _Damn his sexy hide_, she thought as she stroked her fingertips against the strings.

It shouldn't have been so difficult. The song was one she knew well, and had, in fact mastered during her first month of Vulcan lyre lessons. There had been a time when she could have played it while listening intently to space chatter and simultaneously carrying on a conversation with Yeoman Rand during a lull on the bridge. This was not an exaggeration. She'd actually done it once during a particularly boring mission when Captain Kirk had relaxed bridge protocol to just to keep everyone — everyone but his first officer, that is — from going out of their skulls. And that day, without missing a note, she'd picked up on an odd transmission that had resulted in a decidedly less boring mission.

But tonight, sitting in the peace and quiet Spock's quarters as she had every Wednesday night for the last year and a quarter, she couldn't get her fingers to slide over the right damned strings.

She blamed it on Gados.

If they had never taken shore leave on that blasted planet, she wouldn't be in her current predicament. If Spock hadn't decided to break habit and actually _take_ a break and leave the ship for a change, none of this would be happening. It was all Gados's fault.

If the M-class planet hadn't had such a gloriously warm climate whose heat reminded the science officer of his desert homeworld, she was certain she'd be beyond stumbling over a warm-up song she knew backwards and forwards, and on to learning the new piece she'd been begging him to teach her for the last three months.

But five weeks ago they'd stopped at Gados, and by now what she had seen there had set up camp in her mind.

She hadn't _meant_ to follow him deep into the woods, far away from the beaches everyone else was sticking to.

She hadn't _meant_ to hide amongst the trees and watch as Spock had gathered interesting (to him, anyway) samples of the local flora for later study.

She had _truly_ intended to announce herself when she realized that he was stripping off his uniform in preparation for diving into the pool (who knew Vulcans swam?), fed by a bubbling creek, deep in the woods of Gados, far away from the beaches where the rest of the crew were taking their ease. It had all just happened so quickly!

"You are distracted tonight, Ms. Uhura," Commander Spock told his starship colleague and Vulcan lyre protégée. "That is the fourth mistake you have made during this lesson. You are usually more attentive with your fingering."

As if she needed reminding!

It took conscious effort to keep Uhura from shivering at the word "fingering," but somehow she managed.

Sure, like many women, she had taken one look at the handsome, mysterious Mr. Spock and been instantly attracted. Unlike many women, she had taken the time to get to know him, to learn from him — and she didn't just mean the ka'athyra! — and, in short order the attraction had been replaced by a genuine affection and an admiration of his extraordinary mind.

Yes, she reflected, she was a little bit in love with him, too. But her name wasn't Christine Chapel and she wasn't about to pine over any male — not even the delectable Commander Spock.

Acknowledging that fact had dimmed the flames of her desire a little.

Until Gados.

Since that day by the pool that was fed by a tinkling brook, she hadn't been able to shake this other… thing.

Since he was a touch telepath who, by virtue of having a human mother, also possessed considerable empathic tendencies, she had no doubt he was aware not only of her discomfort, but of the reason behind it. Confirming what he already knew, she decided, couldn't be any worse than pretending the problem didn't exist.

"Sometimes, Mr. Spock, I wish you would just throw caution to the winds, toss that harp away and fuck me senseless," she tried, bracing herself for whatever his reaction might be.

Not entirely to her surprise, he took the bait, albeit in a very Spock-like manner.

"The ka'athyra is a very valuable instrument, Ms. Uhura," he observed after only the minutest of pauses. "To 'toss it away' would mean disregarding the many hours of careful workmanship that went into creating it."

She didn't bother stopping the sigh from escaping her lips.

"I was only teasing, Mr. Spock," she lied, feeling a tad defeated at having failed to discomfit him. "Never mind."

She thought she could hear his eyebrow shooting up.

"Lying does not become you, Lieutenant," he said, guiding her fingers back into place. "Now, let us begin again."

* * *

**A/N:** Based on my final dream of 2009, but undoubtedly also inspired by a story called _Hidden Agenda_ by LuvnTrek at lj (though, I'm pretty sure Ms. Luvn would never let Uhura have the potty mouth I've given her) and the scene from _The Man Trap_ where Uhura asks Spock "Why don't you tell me I'm an attractive young woman, or ask me if I've ever been in love?".

Two more chapters to go. Song included in the lj version.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek or Star Trekish.


	2. Shake The Sugar Tree

Spock was disappointed with Lt. Uhura's reaction. He had not expected her to give up so quickly or to deny that she had truly meant her vulgarly stated wish. While she conducted her campaign of flirting with far more discretion than Ms. Chapel displayed her affection for him, it nevertheless had continued, unabated from the day she had met him until that day on Gados.

That day when she watched him from the trees had heralded an unwelcome change in her behavior towards him. She had not stopped occasionally baiting him, but her teasing took on a forced quality at times. These instances, he was quickly able to ascertain, coincided with the moments that her sexual excitement was at its most intense. These moments were usually followed by a short period of stilted behavior which he recognized as being the result of embarrassment. The last six days had shown a marked increase of such incidents.

He blamed everything on the trip to Gados.

Spock shifted two millimeters closer to his student.

"Begin," he murmured into her ear.

She tried again. He could feel her frustration both through the fingers he rested over hers and through the touch of his chin against her ear as he leaned over to direct her playing. Had he been human, he would have been hard-pressed not to reveal his amusement at her predicament through a throaty chuckle; as he was not human, he easily refrained from doing so.

Of course, he had known she was in the woods that day, watching him as he selected various interesting plant specimens for further examination back on the Enterprise. Her footsteps had not been quiet enough as she had trailed him. Several times he had contemplated calling out to her, to show her a particularly aesthetically pleasing blossom or simply to request her opinion on the purpose of one plant structure or another.

Instead, he had found he rather enjoyed allowing her to believe in her own stealth as she followed him through the trees. The notion was illogical, but true, nonetheless. He had not let her know that he was aware of her presence.

He tilted his head a touch to the right and the tiny hairs emerging from the skin covering his jaw gently chafed the lieutenant's delicate ear. She sucked in a quiet breath and her right index finger missed the string it had been seeking.

"That is error number five, Ms. Uhura," he said to her obvious consternation once the sour note had stopped reverberating through his darkened quarters. "You are still inordinately preoccupied."

It was not a complete lie. The past five weeks, two days and eight hours were a small measure of the eighteen months, one week, two days and seventeen hours he had known her. During the balance of that time, she had managed her attraction to him so well, he had rarely given it more than a passing thought or acknowledgment.

Finding the pool had been what humans would call a "happy accident." It had not appeared on any map of the area, nor had planetary scans alerted him to its existence. Only a slight alteration in the sound of the small river's flow drew his attention to its general area.

Removing his clothing and actually entering the pool was another decision he had not wanted to explore at the time. He had acted without his usual careful weighing of consequences, but he could not say that he was displeased that her sharp intake of breath had sounded when, immediately after removing his trousers and underpants, he had turned towards the brush that screened her, then fallen backwards into the water.

"Perhaps we should take a break," he suggested. "This method is not having the desired affect."

That was not the complete truth. Nyota Uhura was not making much progress in her ka'athyra lesson, but he was by no means displeased by her involuntary reaction to his proximity.

"No break," she said firmly. "I can do this."

If anything, her next attempt was even less successful than her previous tries, though instead of stopping at each incorrect strum of the strings, she barreled through her mistakes until the song came to a dissonant end.

Spock did not speak until the strings stopped vibrating, and her labored breathing became the loudest sound in the room.

"A break," he repeated, making it an order this time. "It is unlikely that you will gain anything by continuing while in your current state. You are clearly unable to concentrate tonight."

He pushed the chair back from her stool, allowing his hands to brush the sides of her full breasts as he retrieved his instrument from her grasp.

______________

_You try concentrating with a hot Vulcan body practically pressed up against your ass_, she wanted to snap, but thought better of it. Spock would probably just tell her the Vulcan body temperatures, on average, were only approximately five or so degrees warmer than that of the average human.

Willing herself not to fume any more, she rose from her stool and turned to watch him pack away the harp-like instrument. His firm ass strained against his uniform trousers as he leaned over its carrying case.

"I thought we were only taking a break," she accused, folding her arms over breasts that still felt the phantom of his accidental touch. _If it was really accidental_, she thought, but didn't really believe.

He latched the case before standing and facing her.

"We are," he told her, his handsome face unreadable. "We will resume our lessons as usual next week. In the mean time, you would be wise to engage in activities that will… alleviate your… affliction."

Uhura's brows snapped down and her lips screwed up. For about a nanosecond, she feared he might actually have rendered her speechless, but the right words came spilling out of her mouth with ease.

"Just what kinds of 'activities' are you suggesting, Commander Spock?" she purred, placing her hands on her hips. A slow smile widened her mouth and lit her eyes. "Did you have anything specific in mind?"

The science officer tilted his head to the side, examining her as he might study particularly interesting data in his viewer. He clasped his hands behind his back.

"Actually, Ms. Uhura, I do," he told her. "I estimate that eighty-seven percent of the humanoid females and twenty-three percent humanoid males on this ship own and utilize vibrating phallus-shaped apparatus for the purposes of erotic stimulation. If you are among those populations, I would suggest that you make copious use of your device before our next session."

Uhura didn't even _want_ to know what had induced Spock make that particular estimation. But, her wonder that he would not only share his findings with her, but also suggest that she also take up the practice proved an effective defense against embarrassment.

There was just one problem, however. She couldn't follow his advice.

_In for a penny, in for a pound_, she told herself. She'd already been bolder than was probably wise tonight. _Surely speaking up now couldn't make things any worse_? If nothing else, she figured, it might get her out of any further agonizing lessons.

"Mine is… um… broken," she confessed, flushing and thanking all the gods that between the dim lighting and her brown skin, he wouldn't notice that she was more ashamed to admit this than she had been to hear him bring up the general topic. "It just suddenly stopped working."

There was no surprise or censure on Spock's face as he considered her confession. The austere Vulcan visage didn't change in the least.

"May I examine it?" he asked. "I might be able to repair it for you."

______________

Spock stood just inside Lt. Uhura's rooms while she retrieved her 'vibrator.' He had not missed the rise in her body temperature — confined primarily to the flesh beneath her smooth brown cheeks — when she had told him that she had broken her device. No doubt, she had overused it sometime over the four weeks and one day that had elapsed between their return from Gados and breakdown of the machine. He found the idea somehow appealing.

Stepping out of her sleeping alcove, the petit communications officer extended a long narrow box to him.

Spock stepped forward to relieve her of her burden and raised an eyebrow in silent request. At her nod, he opened the hinged lid.

Inside, nestled in a bed of dark brown velvet fabric, lay an object whose shape and color he was intimately familiar with.

"Your estimation of the ratio of length to girth is close, Lieutenant," he mused, "however, both measurements fall somewhat short of reality."

Closing the lid once again, he turned on his heel and exited her quarters.

* * *

**A/N:** Based on my final dream of 2009, but undoubtedly also inspired by a story called _Hidden Agenda_ by LuvnTrek at lj (though, I'm pretty sure Ms. Luvn would never let Uhura have the potty mouth I've given her) and the scene from _The Man Trap_ where Uhura asks Spock "Why don't you tell me I'm an attractive young woman, or ask me if I've ever been in love?".

One more chapter to go. Song included in the lj version.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek or Star Trekish.


	3. All Mine

At precisely 2000 hours on Friday evening, Spock presented himself at Lt. Uhura's quarters. It took her only three point nine two seconds to admit him, coming to the door herself rather than calling out for him to enter.

She appeared pleased to see him, although she eyed with apprehension the oblong box he carried.

"Come in, Mr. Spock," she said, stepping back to allow him entry.

He walked past her to stand in the center of the sitting area, then turned to face her.

"I apologize for not returning your device to sooner, Ms. Uhura," he told her as soon as the door had closed. "In addition to completing the basic repair, I made several modifications which took longer to complete than I originally anticipated. However, I trust the delay should not significantly impede the completion of your… treatment."

She blinked at him. Had the reaction been his own, the slow closing and opening of the eyes would have indicated a great deal of surprise or consternation. As neither he nor she had initiated physical contact, he was unsure what Lt. Uhura was feeling at the moment.

"I have to admit, sir," she said, as if reading his thoughts, "I did not expect you to return it to me so quickly. Only two days and you say you've not only fixed it, but made some kind of alteration as well! I'm impressed."

"Several adjustments," he corrected, keeping his face carefully blank. "And, as I had both the time and the relevant knowledge to effect said changes, there is no need for you to be 'impressed.'"

She stood before him, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something, but ten point seven seconds passed in mutual silence. When she made no move to take the box from his hands, he spoke again.

"It would be prudent for you to test the device to ensure that you are pleased with the alterations," he prompted. He proffered the box. "The final calibration could not be completed without your input."

Perceptibly hesitant, she reached for it. He noted that she was careful to avoid touching his fingers as she took the box from him. Briefly, he considered touching _her_, but decided against it. "Slow and steady wins the race" was a line from a Terran fable his mother had read to him when he was a boy.

Lt. Uhura sat down on her sofa to open the box and lifted the device from its interior. He watched her face fall, broadcasting her dismay, as the object within hung limply in her small hands.

"That is one of the modifications," he told her evenly. "Turn it on, then grasp it in the palm of you hand. Grip it firmly, but not tightly, and stroke."

After a bemused glance in his direction, she did as told and he was rewarded with her radiant smile as the apparatus quickly began to lose its flaccidity.

"Why, it's warm and getting warmer!" she exclaimed, her face displaying equal parts delight and wonder. "It didn't do that before!"

"The average Vulcan body temperature tends to be approximately four degrees Celsius warmer than the average human body temperature," he informed her. "It was my belief that you would wish for the experience to be as… close to authentic as possible."

He did not miss the warm blush that lent her soft cheeks an appealing pinkish undertone.

She looked up from the phallus, seemingly unaware that she still stroked its length, and smiled at him again.

"Thank you, Mr. Spock," she said, her voice uncharacteristically shy.

He allowed the tiniest of nods.

"The apparatus is now set to respond solely to your touch, Lieutenant. Upon completion of activities, it will return to its dormant state," he informed her, and happily saw that her cheeks took on even more pink. "However, should time constraints not allow for that, you may simply turn it off and return it to its case."

She pressed a button on the device's base and almost instantly, it softened in her hand. She stared at him silently and he realized she was unsure of how to respond. The knowledge was as pleasing as he had believed it would be.

Standing, he turned towards the door.

"If you have any further questions, Ms. Uhura," he said over his shoulder, "feel free to contact me. I trust you will have an enjoyable evening."

He exited her quarters before she was able to form an adequate response.

______________

The door had quietly hissed closed before her jumbled thoughts coalesced into cold realization.

Two nights ago, the first officer hadn't been the least bit surprised to see the distinctive form and color of her sexual aide — he hadn't so as much as lifted one of those delicious eyebrows. He had even taken it upon himself to tell her she hadn't gotten it right.

Vulcans were a notoriously private people, and most would say they were expressionless, but she knew better. Mr. Spock, at least, was _quite_ expressive, for a Vulcan. It was something his friends (all two of them) remarked upon from time to time. In fact, Dr. McCoy's favorite pastime, apart from drinking, seemed to be teasing him about his stumbles into human behavior. An accomplished communications officer was adept at being in tune to the micro-expressions that were all Spock usually allowed the world to see. His very lack of reaction could only mean one thing.

A touch sent the door hissing open again and she rushed outside, hoping to stop him before he reached the turbolift on her corridor. Catching sight of him just a few yards away, she sprinted in his direction, ignoring the open stares from various crewmen who were forced to dive out of her path.

"You knew!" she accused a tad breathlessly as she came abreast of the commander. "You knew I was there the whole time and you didn't say a word!"

Spock appeared as unruffled as ever.

"I would not recommend you for second career as a tracker," he said dryly as he continued towards the lifts. "While your ability to scrutinize an object of interest and discern many of the fine details in a negligible amount of time are extraordinary for a human, you lack the skill to travel silently through a forest."

Uhura opened her mouth to give him an earful, but suddenly becoming aware of their audience, didn't quite know what to say.

"You… you!" she settled for, then, coming to the conclusion that she probably couldn't get away with saying much more, spun on her heel to march away from the offending commander.

"Hey now, gorgeous," Leonard McCoy said as she walked straight into him, "has this overgrown elf been botherin' you?"

She stepped back and folded her arms over her chest again.

"Not really, Doctor," she said, thinking quickly. "Mr. Spock here seems to think it is a compliment to say that 'for a human' my powers of observation are 'extraordinary.'"

"I did not mean it as a compliment, Lieutenant," Spock rejoined. "I was merely, if you will pardon the repetitious phrasing, making an observation."

"Hmph!" she responded, throwing the handsome Vulcan a dark look. Then, satisfied that she'd deftly dodged at least one bullet this night, she stepped around the baffled CMO and headed back to her quarters.

"Poker game in fifteen, Miz Uhura," McCoy called after her.

Without turning around, she waved a hand in acknowledgement and continued retracing her steps.

______________

"That goes for you, too," Leonard told Spock once Lt. Uhura had disappeared back into her quarters.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, still staring at her closed door.

"The _poker_ game, you pointy-eared bastard!" Leonard reminded him, exasperation threatening to bring out the worst in the doctor. "Really, Spock, you gotta learn to watch what you say to females. They expect a man to be a little sweeter with his flattery if he wants to gain her favor."

The half-Vulcan turned and resumed walking towards the lifts.

"As I already said, Doctor," Spock told him, "I was not attempting to flatter the lieutenant. I stated a fact. Furthermore, Lt. Uhura is a competent officer who rarely responds favorably to obsequiousness. It would be illogical for me to attempt to utilize such tactics even if I _did_ wish to 'gain her favor.'"

It was not a lie. The comely communications officer already favored him a great deal. He doubted that his recent behavior would be sufficient to deprive him of her approbation in the future.

"I won't argue with over her know-how," the doctor said as he walked alongside him. "She certainly _is_ one of the best Starfleet has to offer. But she's also a woman. You'd do well not to forget that."

Spock stopped before a lift and pressed the call button.

"Lt. Uhura's gender is ever uppermost in my mind when I think of her," he deadpanned.

"Hmph!" stated Leonard as he stepped through the opening doors.

______________

After a quick stop at Sickbay, Bones reached Jim Kirk's quarters to find Commander Spock already in attendance.

"We might as well get a game in before the womenfolk arrive," he said as he took at seat at the round table. "I don't fancy losin' my shirt to Miz Uhura again this week. Figure if I start out with half of yours, Jim, I'll be that much less likely to walk out of here with nothin' but lint in my pockets."

Jim Kirk grinned and began dealing out three hands.

"Beginner's luck," he protested in spite of the fact that his actions suggested he believed otherwise. "Uhura's not that good. One of us will beat her tonight for sure."

The door hissed open as he finished speaking and the three officers picked up their cards.

"Starting without me, gentlemen?" Miz Uhura asked from the threshold.

She sauntered into the room as Jim's face flushed a deep red. Bones sucked in a chuckle.

______________

He wasn't quite shirtless, but only because Lt. Uhura had been uncommonly distracted. The looks she had been sneaking at the green-blooded bastard all night had put her off her game, but not enough so that she hadn't walked out of Jim's quarters with an IOU for the a bottle from his latest stash of the finest Kentucky bourbon. He shook his head at the thought.

Kirk had challenged her from the start, raising the stakes as soon as they'd finished the hand he had been dealing upon her arrival.

"I hear you have a good eye," his friend had teased. "Let's see if it's good enough to stand up to the big boys!"

Bones had made noises about the fact that she had beaten the pants off of all three of the them a month before, during the first game she'd attended, but his protests had fallen on deaf ears. Jim had kept up his shenanigans.

"Lt. Uhura's capacity for detailed observation should not be ignored, Captain," Spock had put in. "While on Gados I picked up several samples of the local flora to study further at a later time. Unfortunately, time constraints prevented me from taking all of the varieties as I would have preferred to bring back. However, Lt. Uhura, who was in the general vicinity of the area I searched, was able to describe with considerable accuracy a specimen she saw despite having viewed it for the only briefest of moments. Had I not already been in possession of an example of the piece she described, her description would have proven invaluable."

Uhura had shot the first officer a quick glare, but didn't say anything as she'd gone back to studying her cards.

_Hmm_, Bones'd thought, right before she'd wiped the table with all of them.

Spock had left immediately after that. Uhura had stayed for three more rounds.

Bones couldn't say he was sorry to see either of them go.

______________

"There's something going on between those two, Jim," Bones said, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite wrap his head around the concept.

Jim shuffled the cards one more time and started dealing them out with casual flicks of his wrist.

"What? You think they're planning a mutiny?" he asked, laughing at his own lame joke.

Bones scowled as he picked up his growing hand.

"No," he said, "I think they're knockin' boots and not everything is exactly kosher in Paradise, if you know what I mean."

Jim laughed again.

"I _don't_ know what you mean, actually," he teased. "When you mix metaphors like that… . Seriously, though, there's _no way_ Spock is hitting that. No _way_! You're imagining things again."

Scoffing to himself, the doctor let the matter drop.

"Fine!" he grumbled. "Are we gonna play or just sit here all night makin' googly eyes at each other?"

* * *

**A/N:** Based on my final dream of 2009, but undoubtedly also inspired by a story called _Hidden Agenda_ by LuvnTrek at lj (though, I'm pretty sure Ms. Luvn would never let Uhura have the potty mouth I've given her) and the scene from _The Man Trap_ where Uhura asks Spock "Why don't you tell me I'm an attractive young woman, or ask me if I've ever been in love?".

Unforeseen events have led to a delayed posting and to the extension of the entire fic; at least one more chapter after this one. Perhaps more. Song included in the lj version.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek or Star Trekish.


	4. Bad Boyfriend

Wednesday brought several changes.

Before Alpha Shift, Spock sent Uhura a message, changing their meeting place from his quarters to hers. Already having seen evidence that she was much more comfortable in his presence since Friday's delivery, he decided it was not too soon to present her with more variation to their usual plans.

He arrived at the scheduled time, a bag slung over each shoulder. As he had never done that before, he was pleased to see that the surprise she displayed was strictly in keeping with the situation.

Before she could question him, however, he opened the case protecting his ka'athyra. Taking a seat across from the chair she had selected, he instructed her to play several of the songs she had previously mastered.

"Well played, Lieutenant," Spock told her as the last note faded into the computer-controlled air. "You have made considerable progress this week in spite of the disruption to your routine."

Her thick dark lashes fluttered up and her soft-looking lips formed a ring of surprise. Before he drew his next breath, the lashes were shadowing her dark eyes and those lips had curved into a pleased smile.

"Why, Commander," she said, her voice pitched exactly one half-octave lower than her habitual tone, "I believe you just paid me a compliment."

Spock inclined his head towards her.

"I did, indeed," he confirmed.

A quiet chuckle sounded from lips parted two point seven millimeters. Spock found the effect intriguingly alluring. He leaned three centimeters closer.

"Vulcans do not usually give compliments, Mr. Spock," she whispered. "They find flattery to be… illogical."

Taking note of her increased respiration and heart rates, he leaned closer still.

"A statement of fact is never flattery, Ms. Uhura," he whispered in kind. "And you should remember: I am half human."

"You have never told me I played well before," she challenged.

"Before last week, you never deviated from a steady progression towards mastery of the craft," he countered.

At the mention the events of the previous lesson, the tip of her tongue appeared in the tiny space between her full lips. She halted her breathing.

It was time.

"In light of that, and of your humanity, it is only fitting that tonight's marked improvement should be rewarded," he continued, reaching over and carefully lifting his ka'athyra from her hands. "The third part of the request you made is impractical, as Dr. McCoy would no doubt wish to know exactly how you had been rendered unconscious."

He watched, amused, as color steal into her cheeks. Some might call his actions devious, but he could not regret them. She had started this, after all.

"Captain Kirk would also be displeased to lose two senior officers at one time," he added.

"Two?" she echoed, those dark eyes wide with confusion.

"I would be sent to the brig after explaining to McCoy, Lieutenant," he told her. "However, the first and second parts of your request… ."

Lt. Uhura's mouth dropped open, giving him a clear view of her even white teeth, and her already wide eyes widened until her long lashes touched her eyebrows.

He leaned back and rose to his feet in one fluid motion.

.

.

"Don't you dare!" she shouted, jumping to her feet as well.

Only to find she immediately needed to sit down again.

In spite of indulging in the "treatment" he'd recommended three times a day, every day, for the past five days, his raised eyebrow still left her feeling a little weak in the knees.

"What should I not dare, Lieutenant?" he asked, turning to gently settle the instrument into its case even before he'd finished speaking.

Uhura flushed hotly, grateful that he was facing the opposite direction. "Oh, nothing," she said. "I thought… never mind."

When he turned towards her again, he was holding a large, crudely wrapped object in his hands. Something like a small (tiny!) smile bowed his sensuous lower lip.

"I have already told you that my ka'athyra is too valuable an instrument to 'toss away,'" he told her anyway. The tiny upwards tilt of the corners of his mouth were nothing like the amused grin he'd given her the time they'd had poor Charlie on the ship, but still. It was… nice. "What you do with your own is entirely up to you."

.

.

The head of the Enterprise's nursing department was walking past Lt. Uhura's quarters when she heard the shout. She halted immediately, of course.

Christine Chapel had made it a point to know everything she could find out about Mr. Spock. Much to the tall, striking blonde's unspoken annoyance (and secret suspicion), every week at this time the chief communications officer could be found holed up with the chief science officer in his quarters for harp lessons. So it came as a complete surprise that anyone might be in Uhura's rooms.

She barely felt the twinge of satisfaction that this Wednesday night deviated from the norm before the her more caring nature took over. (She was a _nurse_, damn it. Caring was part of job description.)

"Lt. Uhura," she called into the door comm., "is everything all right in there?"

"I'm f-fine," came the shaky audio response. "J-just f-fine."

"Are you sure, Nyota?" Nurse Chapel asked, moving closer to the comm and speaking softly. "I heard you yell."

There was a short pause before the lieutenant spoke again.

"I was just startled by… something," she said, laughing nervously. "I, uh, thought something was about to get broken, but I was mistaken. Don't worry. Everything is _fine_."

Chris didn't buy it for a second.

.

.

The conversation with Chapel already fading from her mind, Uhura studied the new ka'athyra. It wasn't as delicately carved as Spock's, and was a good deal smaller, too. And yet, it seemed somehow… bulky.

The first officer followed her eyes.

"It is meant to be used for private practice only," he explained. "And it has been fabricated to better fit your size."

"Oh," was all she thought to say as she took it from his hands. It was somewhat heavier than his, as well. "Mr. Spock—"

"Try it," he urged. "We must determine if I accurately… anticipated your needs. Play a scale."

She eyed the gift dubiously, but resumed her seat and strummed a few strings. The sound, while not displeasing, was not nearly as melodious as those she regularly produced when fingering Spock's instrument.

He must have noticed her slight wince.

"Unfortunately," he apologized, "in order to obtain a greater degree of durability, some of the tonal quality had to be relinquished. Most human audiences will not perceive the difference."

Nodding her head, she decided to try playing a full scale. He was right, of course, the distortion was so minute, most humans wouldn't hear it. Still…

"That was sufficient, Ms. Uhura," he intoned as she prepared to play again.

She'd barely rearranged her fingers before he was snatching the odd little instrument from her hands and tossing it over his shoulder.

It hit the door with a loud _thunk!_ which she barely registered because by the time it had made contact, she had already been lifted in a powerful Vulcan grip, pulled up against a hot Vulcan body and found a searching Vulcan tongue invading her mouth.

She protested, digging her hands into his hair and squeezing closer to his sleekly muscled form, when he broke the kiss.

But when he called out "Computer, engage sound-proofing and disengage all non-emergency communications," she smiled her approval before capturing his mouth once more.

.

.

The crash against the door was the last straw. Chris was well enough trained not to attempt to intervene without help, but she'd be damned if she was going to stand while her friend was possibly attacked.

She dashed down the corridor to the nearest public comm. and opened an emergency channel.

"Captain," she said, a little breathlessly once she'd made contact, "something's going on in Uhura's room. There was yelling, and at first she told me everything was fine, but then there was a crash and… Come quickly, Captain. Bring Security and Medical."

* * *

**A/N:** Based on my final dream of 2009, but undoubtedly also inspired by a story called _Hidden Agenda_ by LuvnTrek at lj (though, I'm pretty sure Ms. Luvn would never let Uhura have the potty mouth I've given her) and the scene from _The Man Trap_ where Uhura asks Spock "Why don't you tell me I'm an attractive young woman, or ask me if I've ever been in love?".

For pacing and length, I had to cut a lot from this chapter, so there will definitely be another.

Song included in the lj version.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek or Star Trekish.


	5. Close The Door

For precisely one minute and twenty-three seconds, Spock allowed to Uhura to struggle with removing his shirt before deciding that it would be prudent to sit so that he could assist her in her endeavor.

His mouth and tongue still exploring hers, he backed into the chair sitting across from the one she had so recently vacated. It took her only two point one seconds to bare his chest. Briefly, it had occurred to him to be grateful that he had chosen a garment with a front closure, but the things her fingers had been doing to his nipples had quickly chased away all coherent thought.

Eventually they came up for air and she pushed the now-button-free shirt from his shoulders.

"While my goal tonight was to fulfill your fantasy to the best of my ability, Nyota, I continue to draw the line at 'fucking you senseless,'" he admonished huskily. "How would you like me to proceed instead?"

He did not expect a comprehensible answer until she caught her breath, but he enjoyed her reaction to his lips against her ear. His appreciation of her response to him was greatly increased when she reacted while seated in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist.

As if _her_ only goal was to please _him_, she shuddered in his arms again and pressed her face into his neck.

"I don't know, Commander," she replied eventually, the spike in her desire as she said "commander" and the biting kisses she was currently applying to his bare chest giving lie to her words. "I've never actually gotten past the part where you throw away the harp."

She paused in her exertions to smile at him ruefully.

"In that case, Lieutenant, it would seem improvisation and exploration will be necessary in order to pleasure you with my body," he told her, noting that his use of her title also increased her arousal. "I trust you will not take exception to that?"

Lifting one hand to her face, Spock stroked her lower lip with his thumb. He yanked her closer using only the forearm left at her waist, and shifted his hips against the juncture of her legs so that there could be no misunderstanding of just what kind of improvising and exploring he had in mind. He took the soft moan she granted him as consent.

Before he could lean in to touch his lips to hers, she sucked in his thumb, eliciting a moan from deep in his own throat. She smiled triumphantly as she bit down. Spock felt a wave of approval for his prospective lover's instincts.

"Perhaps," he began, slowly sliding his digit from her mouth and down to the first in a series of ties holding her blouse closed, "we should begin with removing our clothing and learning one another's bodies via touch and taste, followed by something of your choosing and culminating with a comparison of the replica to the original."

The rush of heat at her center transmitted her enthusiasm even more readily than her excited nodding to the affirmative.

"Computer," he ordered, "play file S one nine seven three U."

Music began filling her small quarters and his lok strained uncomfortably against his trousers. She pressed herself very comfortably against his lok and was rewarded with a moan of his own.

.

.

"What took you so long?" Christine exclaimed as Jim came jogging up to Lt. Uhura's doors, Leonard McCoy. "It's been three minutes! And where's security? He could be killing her in there!"

To her great annoyance, Leonard and the captain exchanged glances before the doctor stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Miz Chapel," he said, and she felt a moment of trepidation. He _always_ reverted to Southern Gentleman when he was trying to deliver bad news using soft words. "Why don't you head on down to Medical and get things set up just in case it's needed."

The look on his face told her he didn't think anyone inside the lieutenant's quarters would be visiting Sickbay tonight.

Frowning, Christine decided to stand her ground.

"Doctor," she bit out, "I heard _screaming_ and then a _loud crash_ coming from Nyota's room. While you and the captain stand around assuming you know what's going on, her attacker could be— !"

"Chris… do you know what tonight it, darlin'?" he interrupted her, folding his arms across his chest, and smiling smugly.

"Yes, Doctor," she said through clenched teeth. "I am aware of the day and its significance." She cut her eyes over at Kirk and lowered her voice. "I also know that her music lessons are always conducted in Mr. Spock's quarters."

If anything, Leonard's smile grew wider.

"You heard from Spock tonight, Jim?" he asked over his shoulder.

Kirk wasn't smiling, but he didn't look overly worried either. He shook his head.

"Not tonight, Bones," he said matter-of-factly. "Almost never on Wednesday evenings."

Leonard turned back to face her, giving her shoulder a little squeeze.

"Seems to me that green-blooded bastard woulda called the captain if Miz Uhura didn't show up for their lesson and then didn't respond to her comm.," he pointed out. "Why don't you go on down to Medical, Chris."

"Aye, sir," was her quiet response.

She let him push her away from Lt. Uhura's door. She wasn't convinced that what her boss clearly suspected was correct, but she was too afraid he was right to stick around and see.

"We're still going to have to go in there, Bones," she heard the captain mutter.

"After you, Jim," she heard Leonard gallantly reply.  
.

.

Uhura couldn't hold back a delighted squeal when Spock stood, launching her across his broad shoulder as he strode toward her sleeping alcove. His "improvisation and exploration" continued to meet with her approval.

The hand he was using to knead and stroke her bottom left her wanting to wiggle and squirm. it was even harder to stay still when she felt his teeth take over. She grabbed his own glutes to brace herself. The floor seemed a long way to fall head-first.

Spock halted as she began to explore _his_ gorgeousness with renewed interest. Her preoccupation with his lips and chest and… other bits had almost erased her appreciation for the view from behind. Licking her lips in anticipation, she wondered if, naked, it would be as bite-able as Spock seemed to find hers. He hadn't given her a chance to check it out on Gados.

The thought sent her into another fit of giggles and she pressed her face into his heated back to stifle the sound just as the door to her quarters hissed open and two figures stepped in phasers at the ready.

"Told ya so," Dr. McCoy said, coming abruptly to a halt and elbowing Captain Kirk.  
.

.

Jim stared, but only because he was too shocked to avert his eyes. And because Uhura really did have an amazing ass. He'd always admired its firm rounded shape beneath her uniform briefs, but seeing it peeking up from atop his first officer's shoulder, covered only by the thin fabric of her loose pants and the firm grip of Spock's hand was another thing altogether.

Spock's. Big. Strong. Hand.

Looking at those long fingers caressing that sweet, tight— He shook his head to clear it and started backing away.

"Looks like you owe me forty credits and a bottle, Jim-boy," Bones drawled.

A quick glance to the side confirmed that the doctor's eyes were also riveted on the tableau by the lieutenant's bed.  
.

.

"Oh, _that_. I was just afraid Mr. Spock was about to damage his instrument," Uhura explained her earlier shout.

The captain and the doctor still stood just inside the closed door. This time, both of their mouths were hanging open again.

"I meant his _harp_," she clarified.

The lascivious grin found its way back to McCoy face. The captain still looked bemused, but no longer shocked, exactly.

"And then when he tossed the new one over his shoulder, it hit the door and made such a racket," she rushed to explain the rest. "But I guess we didn't really think about how it might sound to someone outside.

"You'll tell Christine I never meant to worry her, won't you?"  
.

.

Jim grabbed his friend's sleeve and yanked hard.

"Come on, Bones," he muttered, still backing away. He tried not too look at the way Spock's trousers tented in the front.

Len fluttered his fingers at the couple, a smile that was equal parts ridiculous and indulgent pulling apart his smug look.

"Y'all kids play nice, now," he instructed. "Don't do anything Jim here hasn't been dyin' to try." He glanced at the tenting. "Try not to hurt anybody, Spock."

That elicited another muffled laugh from Uhura as she buried her face in Spock's back again. For the first time, Kirk noticed her top was unfastened and that the rounded sides of her breasts were a visible contrast to his first officer's pale skin.

Her. Naked. Breasts. Against. Spock's. Lean. Naked. Back.

"Thank you, Doctor," the half-Vulcan said. His tone said _Get the Hell out of here, you grinning idiots!_

At least, that's what Jim heard. He hadn't just _imagined_ the glare his science officer had thrown his way.

The captain spun around, dragging Bones with him, and stumbled out the door.  
.

.

At last, Spock turned to the bed and deposited his human cargo.

Uhura stared up at him, dark eyes still shining in amusement.

"Guess the cat's out of the bag now," she said as he placed one knee on either side of her thighs.

"Indeed," he said as he placed one hand on either side of her alluring face. "Computer, resume playing file S one nine seven three U... from the beginning."

"Do you mind very much?" she asked as she shrugged out of her shirt, exposing dark nipples, tantalizingly erect, to his view.

"Not at all," he told her as he took one into his mouth.  
.

.

Jim followed Bones down the hall in silence. For all that he had been the one to drag them both out of Uhura's quarters, as images of what he'd just witnessed, now burned forever into his mind, started to make sense, he began to drag his feet."

"Spock!" he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. "I'd never have guessed he could pull off something like that."

"You know what they say about the quiet ones."

"Quiet?!" Kirk questioned. "Quiet is one thing; 'practically mute at times' is another thing altogether. Come on, Bones, we're talking about Spock here!"

"Yup. It's those _quiet_ ones."

"But… but this is— this is Spock!" he sputtered. "You think if she'd wanted—"

"Keep on talkin', Jim," his friend interrupted.

The captain gave his CMO and best friend a look that clearly said, Watch it! and I am not amused, but a half second later his usual laid back disposition made a comeback.

The glare was replaced by a grin, and Jim looped an arm around Bones's shoulder.

"I think we should go open your newest bottle of Kentucky's finest." he said, once again leading the way.

* * *

**A/N:** Based on my final dream of 2009, but undoubtedly also inspired by a story called _Hidden Agenda_ by LuvnTrek at lj (though, I'm pretty sure Ms. Luvn would never let Uhura have the potty mouth I've given her) and the scene from _The Man Trap_ where Uhura asks Spock "Why don't you tell me I'm an attractive young woman, or ask me if I've ever been in love?".

Yesterday afternoon, after finally finding a song that worked, I lost 97% of this chapter because of human error (read: I overwrote not one, but _three_ copies of the chapter in my rush to get crackin' on another fic. Oops.). So this might not be what I promised; it's definitely not what I planned.

Song included in the lj version.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek or Star Trekish.


End file.
